


Comfort Seekers

by mew_tsubaki



Series: Birds of a Feather AU [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Birds of a Feather AU, M/M, Older Characters, cameos from a bunch, mentions of Iwaoi/Oiwa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: Watari, Matsukawa, and fighting to hold on to what they have. *An AU oneshot set in my Birds of a Feather AU, but may be read on its own; set after "Opportunity" in the BoaF collection; slash.





	Comfort Seekers

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Hitting up some Matsuwata in the Birds of a Feather AU, because I have a nEED. BUT! This fic stands on its own so you don't have to read the fics in the BoaF collection to enjoy this. Give it a shot if you're new to the pairing, or enjoy if one of my other Matsuwatas already convinced you of the ship. -w- Read, review, and enjoy! *Note: Though you don't have to read the BoaF fics to enjoy this, things will be clearer if you do; this is set after the 6th story, "Opportunity," and after the Ukatake oneshot "Moving Mountains."

Watari rolled a kink out of his neck as he returned to the main gym on Aoba Johsai's campus, where the volleyball club was practicing. The knot in his muscles unraveled by the time he walked to Iwaizumi's side, opposite Mizoguchi, and he felt fine as his eyes traveled on the court with the athletes, the liberoes in particular.

Iwaizumi bent his head towards Mizoguchi, exchanging a quick word at which the head coach nodded. Then Iwaizumi inhaled deeply and shouted, " _Takeru_! Watch your landing! You almost touch the net every single time you hit a cross!"

Watari, just as Oikawa's nephew did, jolted at the sudden volume, even though this recently had become the norm. No, not Iwaizumi yelling—he and Mizoguchi did that a lot. But yelling at Takeru, because the third-year wing spiker seemed so out of it this year. "How many times while I made my rounds?" Watari asked the coaches as the other members took to ribbing their ace.

"Only twice," Mizoguchi informed him with a snicker above Iwaizumi's head. "But the day's still young."

Iwaizumi crossed his arms in front of his chest and said nothing. But the assistant coach's grumpy expression said it all: "Am I a coach or just the Oikawa Wrangler?"

Ignoring the glare he was getting, Mizoguchi looked around Iwaizumi to judge Watari's face. "Everything okay, Watari? You look a little tired…and you're back from your rounds early."

Watari gave them a meager smile, an action which earned him a glimpse from Iwaizumi, too. "It's…fine."

But the coaches wore identical expressions of exasperation. "Which ones this time?" Mizoguchi asked.

"Kendo…and basketball again…"

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "The basketball club? Seriously? Ogi-sensei just won't give up… He can't stand that the volleyball club is bigger than the basketball one now, so we deserve the bigger gym." He even shook his head at the childish antics.

"It's not just that," Watari corrected, twisting his hands around while they were hidden, clasped behind his back. "The basketball club has always had a very particular way of managing their exercises and training against injuries. And the kendo club… Well, Teshima-sensei doesn't believe his kids need a fitness trainer around." He chuckled. "So it's not _really_ a dislike for my coming from a volleyball background."

The coaches shared another look. Then Mizoguchi paused practice and walked onto the court to correct a few things by example. With him handling that, Iwaizumi turned to face his friend fully. "I'd apologize for you being stuck with us all of the time, but you know you're welcome here anytime, Watari. Besides, if the other athletic clubs don't take advantage or your expertise, it's their loss." He raised his eyebrows and grinned that reliable grin of his—his ace one from a decade ago. "Especially smack-dab in the middle of tournament season."

They laughed at that, and Watari really _was_ in a better mood, even when he stood on the sidelines with the club manager and took observational notes. This kind of task might have seemed pointless to others—like the coaches of the basketball and kendo teams—but, for Watari, it had meaning. As a fitness trainer, his efforts bore fruit when he customized regiments for a student or for a whole team. The students who embraced his guidance never failed to improve, and that was a happy result of Watari choosing to carve out this unique path for himself ages ago instead of sticking with a traditional physical therapy route.

Four years of university.

Two years of a hands-on, post-grad training program.

One year of experience at a high school near his old university.

And one big decision to move back home and make a position for himself at his alma mater. A position that was tailored for him and could not be snatched away by anyone else.

A position that had kept him in Miyagi the past three years with few chances to go elsewhere.

With that train of thought, Watari's happy mood darkened, and he made no effort to force the smile back on his lips, even when he sensed the poor club manager eye him with caution, going so far as to take a step back herself. And Watari couldn't blame her. Sometimes adult life was scary to consider. But sometimes it was even harder to handle.

The trainer took his phone from his pocket and texted his mother to let him know what ingredients to pick up for supper on his way home, as he did most nights unless he and his parents had solid plans. Though it might not be ideal, moving back home and actually returning to his parents' house made a lot of sense. He could save some of his paycheck by living at home, but he could also do more around the house now, too. That had become especially important since his mother had developed arthritis, so she focused on her desk job much as his father did. In addition, he knew his parents appreciated the company, as he was their only child. Although, he thought as he got an email response rather quickly from his mother, they weren't the _only_ parents happy to see him.

When that thought threatened to disrupt his focus entirely for the day, Watari shook his head and devoted his attention to the scene before him. Takeru was being scolded again and looking like an elementary schooler, all hands behind his back and toes scuffing the floor as Mizoguchi growled himself dry and Iwaizumi picked up from there.

"The first round of Spring High qualifiers is next week. That's serious business," Iwaizumi reminded the teen. He looked at the others even as he directed the rest of his words at Takeru. "Don't think you can breathe easy with summer vacation coming up. The playoffs in October will be here before you know it, and only the best in Miyagi gets to represent at Tokyo in January. And do you know who the best is right now? Shiratorizawa. Even Karasuno pushed us into third place last month at the Interhigh."

Watari internally sighed, more so when he saw the irate look on Mizoguchi's face. The thing was, a speech like Iwaizumi's would work wonders on _their_ high school team. But the reminder that Karasuno could do so well with _two_ new coaches, neither of which were Ukai? Maybe this was too demoralizing for Seijou's current team…

"But the best don't stay the best unless they work for it," the assistant coach continued. "The best don't _become_ the best unless they work for it."

At that, Takeru and the rest suddenly stood at attention. A resounding "Yes, coach!" echoed in the gym, and the students got back to practice.

"You had me worried for a second," Watari told Iwaizumi when the coaches returned to the sidelines.

"Our team was easier, no doubt," the dark-haired man said. "This crew? It's not just Takeru. They all respond better to brutal reminders of reality."

Something that Watari had witnessed for years practiced on Oikawa, Watari knew. But he didn't point that out to Iwaizumi.

The rest of practice went smoothly, thank the gods. Takeru even trotted over to the trio of older men to apologize for his behavior earlier.

"As long as those crosses break through without touching the net next week, you'll hear no complaints from me," Mizoguchi told him with a pat on the shoulder. A moment later, he barked at the lazy second years for making all the first years clean up.

Takeru stayed put, though, and he ducked his eyes. It was an interesting sight from someone who'd grown to be taller than his uncle had been at this age—but he was also better behaved and politer than said uncle. "Um, Hajime…"

Iwaizumi sighed, and that and Takeru's tone told Watari it was a family matter, since the teen had grown up using Iwaizumi's and Oikawa's given names, so Watari took a step away. Still, he could hear everything well despite that. "There's a reason, isn't there?" Iwaizumi asked, heaving another sigh.

"Well, I…was planning on asking…a girl out…after the qualifiers…"

Watari rolled his eyes and peeked at Iwaizumi—a vein pulsed at his temple. Oh, boy. Maybe there were certain things that ran in the Oikawa blood.

"And _that's_ your goal? Not winning, but getting a date?"

Though Takeru tended to have confidence the rest of the time, he was so shy now, in front of Iwaizumi, saying this. "N-No, but… She's also a volleyball player, but she goes to a ri—another school," he quickly adjusted, though Iwaizumi and Watari caught his slip of the tongue. "So I figure my only real chance of speaking to her is then…"

For one terrifying second, Iwaizumi was quiet. Then: "…a rival school?"

Takeru nodded.

"As long as it's not Shiratorizawa or Karasuno, you should be fine."

The wing spiker whistled innocently—another of Oikawa's traits.

Iwaizumi shook his head, groaning. "Oh, for crying out… One of them? Does your uncle know?"

"Hell no!" Takeru yipped. "I know better than to go to Tooru or Mom for love advice, and he'd _kill_ me once he found out who it is—"

"So you think _I'm_ good for advice?!" Iwaizumi grumbled.

Watari stepped in then before things became bad or too ridiculous. He gave Takeru a comforting smile. "Sorry. Couldn't help but overhear… A volleyball player, though? It's nice you have that in common," Watari spun as Iwaizumi calmed. "What does she play?"

Takeru lightened up. "Libero!"

Watari laughed. "Then she's got my vote," he joked, and the tension dissipated as Takeru nodded vigorously and even Iwaizumi chuckled.

Then, of course, things took a worse turn anyway in spite of Watari's efforts.

"All right!" a familiar voice shouted angrily from the gym doors. He panted and continued, "Who said Shiratorizawa's the best?!"

Iwaizumi and Watari glanced at each other, apprehensive, but they didn't have to see around Takeru to know who had arrived. Least of all when Mizoguchi ran to the man, asking after him. "Irihata-sensei?! What on Earth—?!"

Irihata batted Mizoguchi's hand away, stepping into the gym on his own power. "I would've interrupted sooner, but the other teachers either wanted to say 'hello' or escort me off the premises," the old man stated.

"That's because you retired! Two years ago!" Mizoguchi gawped at him incredulously. "Were you _running_ from the teachers?! Sensei, your heart—"

"—can handle a light jog," the old ox cut off, and he walked around, eyeing the players while Mizoguchi fretted and dogged his heels. His eyes alighted on Iwaizumi, and he smirked. "Iwaizumi."

The assistant coach and the fitness trainer respectfully bowed their heads. "Sensei."

"I leave Mizoguchi in charge, and we're still not on top?" He turned to Mizoguchi, and his grin deepened, making Mizoguchi greener and greener.

"Sensei…," Mizoguchi intoned.

But there was a twinkle in Irihata's eye.

Groaning, Mizoguchi waved for Iwaizumi to join them in the coaches' office. Watari hung back to supervise the students as things wrapped up, but the three older men were _still_ in the office even after the students left. Curious, Watari scurried over to the office just as the door flew open.

Mizoguchi and Iwaizumi looked tired beyond belief, but Irihata wore a triumphant expression. "Watari…," Mizoguchi started, "…take a vacation."

Watari blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You help us a lot around here, but you could use the break," the coach insisted, rubbing the back of his blond head. Then he and Irihata sauntered off, as if everything had been explained.

" _Huh_?"

"Sensei's come out of retirement for the week," Iwaizumi elaborated, and he dragged a hand across his face. "We're gonna have our hands full."

"Then wouldn't an extra set be helpful?"

Iwaizumi glanced at him. "Watari, when was the last time you were good and properly away from the volleyball club?"

"Last fall. I went down for a short weekend to celebrate Nishinoya's birthday."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Watari squirmed at Iwaizumi's directness, and he wanted to glare at him…but he didn't, out of respect for his senpai. "It's…tough, planning things."

Iwaizumi put his hands on his hips, surveying the gym. Seeing it was in shape, he picked up his bag from the office, as did Watari, and the two of them exited and locked up the place. "Tell me that when _your_ significant other is a pro volleyball player," he retorted at last.

Watari trotted alongside him, any potential defiance quelled. Iwaizumi meant what he said; he loved Oikawa but disliked bringing up what they were to each other, so, for Iwaizumi to say the words "significant other," he clearly wasn't looking for Watari to talk back but to listen.

Perhaps he understood he had the upper hand. He dropped back half a step so he matched Watari's pace, and he bumped the shorter man's shoulder with his own. "All I'm saying is, go see Matsukawa. Impose on Hanamaki and Yahaba. Catch a practice game together over the weekend."

The trainer's heart lifted a little. "Send Oikawa-san your love?" he dared to ask.

Lucky Watari was Watari, so he only got a face from Iwaizumi. "Ugh, of course not. That idiot calls all the time, so he knows."

Watari laughed at his words, already thinking he'd not let this chance pass by. He thought, too, as they exited the school gate and went in opposite directions, that it must be nice, being able to say such romantic things Iwaizumi did about Oikawa….

* * *

"So Irihata-sensei is bored and decided to come out of retirement?" his father asked him at dinner. He was so stunned, he forgot his manners and left his chopsticks hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah, Iwaizumi-san said Sensei convinced the principal. Iwaizumi-san and Mizoguchi-san need to manage him, though, since heart problems sidelined him a couple years back," Watari replied. He shrugged. "Iwaizumi-san convinced me not to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Good. I'm glad," his mother said. She finally caught her husband's attention and motioned to his chopsticks. "I like his suggestion, too. I wish Issei would come home more often."

"Suggestion"? Watari wouldn't call it a suggestion, but he didn't dwell on that, nor did he comment about his mother's wish. It was something he wished for, as well.

"I take it you'll head out first thing in the morning?" his mother asked, bringing Watari back to the present.

"That's what I was thinking. I've a friend to call, but I don't doubt being able to crash at his place.

"You can't stay with Issei?"

Watari shook his head and spooned some more rice into his bowl. "No," he said between bites. "He shares a tiny hole in the wall with Kyoutani, close to where he works. There's no room for me." Though the statement was factual, the reality of his words weighed heavily on Watari, and suddenly the clump of rice in his mouth felt unpleasant and tasted spoiled.

He missed the worried glance between his parents, and his mother cleared her throat. "When you leave in the morning, swing by his family's shop. It's only polite to bring something, and I'm sure his parents would like to send specific things along."

"Right, right…"

Dinner passed along idly after, and Watari cleared everything away as his parents enjoyed their shows. After the kitchen was in order, he went upstairs to his room and dialed Nishinoya, packing a bag while the line rang.

Nishinoya eventually answered. "Shinji!" he half shouted with that chirpy tone of his. It made Watari grin.

"Hey, Nishinoya. Is now a good time?"

"Yep! I'm just on my way home from the flower shop."

The flower…? Ah, right. "I forgot the bar's closed on Mondays now," the trainer said.

"Yeah, but it's not a bad thing. We're doing better than ever." Nishinoya paused. "You? It's rare for _you_ to call _me_."

Straight to the matter and without hassle, Nishinoya was not like Watari's other friends. He'd never thought they'd be friends, either, but Karasuno's former libero had respected Seijou's former libero too much not to get to know him. And, considering their similar situations, Watari was relieved for Nishinoya's persistence. "I know," Watari said after a beat. "I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer?"

He could picture the elation on Nishinoya's face too easily. "You're coming to visit?!"

"If you don't mind…"

"I don't! I mean, my place is small—like, _really_ small—but I'll tidy up! We can make it work!" He came to a screeching halt. "Wait. For how long?"

And there was the only issue. "Can you swing a week?"

"Hmm… I think so? I mean, I'll be working, so I won't be able to hang out much."

"That's fine."

"You sure you don't want to stay with Yahaba and Hanamaki-san? I thought they have some upscale apartment."

Watari bit back a retort. He said nothing to Nishinoya, much as he hadn't corrected Iwaizumi earlier. Watari _had_ stayed over at their place—once. And he hadn't done so ever again.

"Shinji…?" the crow prompted.

"Ah, yeah… I really can't… …their walls aren't soundproof," he finished in a quiet voice, somewhat embarrassed at making such an implication. But he knew Nishinoya wouldn't spread it.

In fact, Nishinoya laughed. "That sucks. Rest assured, I won't—and can't—do anything like that to you."

Watari packed a couple of his favorite t-shirts into his gym bag. "But you and Azumane-san are doing well?"

"Yep." Nishinoya's voice was cheery but soft as he continued. "It's a work in progress, but there's been a lot of progress."

"I'm happy for you," Watari said, envious though he was. Being able to reconnect after years of misunderstanding and no communication? Even off the court, Nishinoya forever managed to pull off astounding things.

"Thanks. I take it you'll be seeing Matsukawa-san while you're here?"

The trainer hesitated, and he sank onto his mattress beside his bag. "I hope," he mumbled, knowing full well Nishinoya would not rattle off a to-do list where Iwaizumi would…and had.

"Have you called him?" Nishinoya asked gently.

"We last talked after the Interhigh last month."

"No, I—" Nishinoya sighed. "Let him know you're coming, Shinji. This week."

Watari blinked, heat creeping into his cheeks. Boy, he felt dumb. "Oh. Right."

"Ah! By the way, I'll probably be at the bar by the time you roll into the city, so just swing by and I'll give you the key to my place. You remember the way, right?"

"I've swung by enough times. If I get lost, I'll call you."

Nishinoya chuckled, a grin in his voice. "See you tomorrow, Shinji!"

"See you, Nishinoya."

And then the line went dead.

Watari hit the "END" button on his phone and stared at the screen. The display turned off after half a minute without activity, and Watari spied his frown in the screen's reflection. Not willing to watch it a second longer, he tapped the screen and held down the number two button, his speed dial for Matsukawa.

The line rang twice, and Watari's nerves wound tight as the third, the fourth rings sounded. Before the fifth, Matsukawa answered with a "Hey."

"Issei-san," Watari breathed, releasing a sigh of relief. "Hi. How are you?"

"Good. You, Shinji?"

"Better n—" Watari stopped himself before he could utter the embarrassing words "now that I've heard your voice." "Better," he repeated. "Great, actually. I'll be local tomorrow. For the week."

There was a pause before Matsukawa replied with a slow "Oh." "Wow. How'd that happen?"

"Irihata-sensei crashed the party, so I'm one less thing in Mizoguchi-san's and Iwaizumi-san's hair."

"Ah." Matsukawa chuckled, a quiet, throaty sound Watari loved. "I see."

"Yeah. I know it's last-minute, but I was thinking I might see you." There they were. The words were out in the open. How would Matsukawa respond?

On his end, there were clicking sounds, like the sound of a keyboard. A second later, Matsukawa answered distractedly. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good."

The trainer didn't have to look at his reflection to know he was frowning. And he knew Matsukawa was a master at being taciturn, but this was pretty extreme. "So… I'll see you tomorrow, Issei-san?"

"Ah, yeah."

Watari's shoulders sagged. "All right, then…"

"'Night, Shinji."

His heart twinged, hearing his name. "Goodnight, Issei-san…"

This time, when the call ended, it was worse than before, and the silence of his room was more horrible than his friends and family giving him encouragement without coming out and saying that maybe his "situation" was a genuine problem.

* * *

In the morning, Watari had a quick breakfast with his parents. His mother assured him they'd manage fine without him for a week, and his father reminded him to visit Matsukawa's family's bakery on his way to the station.

A short bus ride later, Watari was in the heart of town, and he crossed the street to enter the popular bakery with the lace awning out front. Despite it being a weekday morning, the place was packed with locals, even to the point where people spilled outside, so one couldn't see the script "Amai No…" sign painted on the window. Watari had to squeeze by others to get in.

Matsukawa's parents flew around the shop, selling this, packing that, writing down a million orders. Watari could barely see their curly heads before they were gone the next second and he was left with an afterimage. But a third curly head popped up in his path, towering over him, nearly as tall as Matsukawa himself.

"Shinji, shouldn't you be at work?" Matsukawa's older sister, Kako, asked, her arms full of cookie to-go bags.

"Short vacation," he supplied, taking some of the bags and helping her arrange them on the display on his left. "I'll be going down—"

"To see Itchan?"

Though Matsukawa was the smiley-est of his family, moments like this where Kako used her brother's nickname were cute reminders to Watari that the family of four could be cuddly in their own way. "That's part of the plan," he said. "I'm staying with a friend, though."

She nodded and pushed her glasses up her nose, and the sight of her brown eyes made Watari wish to see his boyfriend's black ones. "Mom and Dad are busy, but I can put together a box for your friend and three of Itchan's favorites. Wait here a moment," she finished with a quick pat on his head.

Watari pouted at the gesture, but he let Kako get away with it. She and Matsukawa were the exceptions; though, as he saw Kako and Matsukawa's parents on a regular basis for dinner at their place, Kako was the only one who did it these days.

About five minutes later, Kako reappeared with a fresh cookie to-go bag and a small box. "For your friend," she said, handing him the bag. "And for Itchan," she finished, passing him the box. "I don't have all of the things he likes, so he's getting three macadamia brownies."

The trainer nodded and packed the bag in his large duffle; as there wasn't room for the box, he'd have to carry that on the train with him. "Thanks, Kako-san."

"Of course. I just wish I'd had the time to whip something up."

He wasn't surprised to hear that. He offered her an apologetic smile as a small consolation. "I know. Sorry. This is just spur-of-the-moment—"

"Kako!" her mother called.

The two looked over Kako's shoulder…well, Watari tried. But Kako faced him one last time. "That's me. We'll catch up when you get back, Shinji." She patted his shoulder this time. "And bring back something Itchan made," she said as she turned to go.

Watari promised, and it wasn't until he slipped outside that he realized he hadn't paid her. Then again, he didn't often pay at Amai No…; Matsukawa's family saw him as family, and they were forever feeding him new recipes or fresh batches even though he lacked the sweet tooth their son and Hanamaki had.

Once he got on the train, he found his seat and tucked his luggage away, prepared to spend the next several hours dozing or staring out the window. Unfortunately, he didn't feel drowsy in the least bit, so staring out the window it was.

Though the scenery outside the train changed drastically as the vehicle ventured south, Watari's mind remained at the station. He'd never had to take the train to school. Like Yuda, he'd lived within walking distance. Sawauchi and Shido had biked to school, Kindaichi and Kunimi had taken the bus, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki and Yahaba would take the bus partway. Only Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Kyoutani had taken the train.

Now, feeling the way he did, he wished he had some nostalgic memories of him and Matsukawa going to school on the train. Running to catch the train. Gratefully collapsing into the first free seats they found. Or squished together during the morning rush, Matsukawa holding the above-head strap with one hand and holding on to Watari with the other.

Even the reverie was enough to make Watari sigh with envy.

Was this…a terrible idea? He wasn't showing up unannounced, just with little notice. And Matsukawa was one for surprises…though, as Watari thought on that, he realized Matsukawa tended to do the surprising. From pulling pranks on Hanamaki to popping up with little gifts for Watari to telling his parents he'd stay in the city after university to even asking Watari out from the start—Matsukawa was the surpriser, not the surprisee.

The memory of Matsukawa asking him out at the end of his first year at Seijou summoned a wan grin to his face, which he caught in the window glass. He hadn't believed it at first and had written it off as a joke. Matsukawa had let the subject drop for a bit, but then he'd persisted in his final year and Watari's second, asking the libero out until Watari was convinced Matsukawa didn't mean it as a joke. When Watari finally agreed, Watari had worried some about not having much time before the seniors' graduation. But Matsukawa had taken a year off after, to work at his parents' bakery while Watari finished high school. Then they'd left for university and the city life together, even though they went to different schools.

Being in love was fun and not something Watari had expected to do. But Matsukawa had shown Watari that the libero was more important to him than others were, so Watari had decided that maybe there _was_ more to life than family and friends and figuring out how to get by. There was catching a lover's eye and breaking into a grin. There was holing up with a significant other when it was too cold or too hot to do anything but stay at home and watch TV. There was the rare argument with a boyfriend who was the only one allowed to argue when things got tough and no solutions presented themselves. And then there was making up with a love once a fix was determined and apologies were said. And there was nothing like a hug and a kiss from someone who loved you more than anything else in the world.

But growing up seemed to be a death sentence for the fun of young romance. Or maybe it only appeared that way to someone who hadn't been looking for love and therefore had been swept away by it. It wasn't just difficult to plan dates or to spend time together, as Watari had told Iwaizumi yesterday. It was letting school and work get in the way. It was getting upset at the idea that their futures were diverging. It was…being too tired anymore to get upset. It was resigning themselves to their fates. It was believing they could survive a long-distance relationship.

With each thought, Watari's frown deepened until it was a grimace, and he chewed on his lower lip. He bit and chewed until it was painful and one part was numb, but he was afraid he might start crying in the middle of the train if he didn't have the pain to distract him. Who _wouldn't_ cry at the possibility of being the only one in love anymore?

He kept it together and massaged his temples, ridding himself of a headache when the train was delayed about an hour and a half from the city. It was annoying, not crying but getting the headache anyway. But, if there was a saving grace, it was that this mental taxation made Watari somewhat physically exhausted, and he nodded off while the conductor came on the P.A. system to apologize for the inconvenience.

* * *

"Ah, um…h-hello…" Watari fidgeted under that violet gaze—as he did every time he came to Kuma Desserts, though he rarely visited his boyfriend's workplace. "I-Is…Issei—I mean, Matsukawa-san in?"

Murasakibara, the owner and head chef at this patisserie, stopped looking over Watari and straightened up. He turned his head slowly and called over his shoulder, "Matsuchin~ Your chibi's here~"

Watari blushed when other customers tittered at that, but he stepped to the side of the main display case, waiting for Matsukawa and stepping out of the spotlight.

The nap on the train had made him forget the most dismal of his ponderings, so Watari had hesitated for only half a second before boarding an inner-city line to reach Kuma Desserts about twenty, thirty minutes later. He'd have to take the same line back, as Nishinoya lived on the other side of the city, but he could stave off the long ride's exhaustion a little more just to see Matsukawa.

Lo and behold, Matsukawa's big frame appeared at the kitchen's swinging doors. There was a spot of flour in his hair by his ear, and his white jacket and apron were dotted in chocolate stains, but that curly hair and those piercing, sleepy eyes were all Matsukawa. Said eyes widened in surprise at seeing Watari there.

"Well, I _did_ call you…," Watari said.

Matsukawa nodded, perhaps a bit dumbfounded. He held up a finger so Watari would wait. Then he addressed Murasakibara, who rang up two customers. "Mukkun-sensei?" He held up a hand.

The head chef nodded and waved him off, and Matsukawa gestured to a table Watari hadn't noticed tucked into a corner of the store. They sat, and Matsukawa leaned forward, cupping his cheek in his palm.

"You're really here."

Watari chuckled. "Is it that much of a shock?" Matsukawa being so stunned made him apprehensive…but he heaved an internal sigh of relief when Matsukawa gave him a slow, sheepish smile that made his heart skip a beat.

The taciturn guy shook his head. "No… No, as you said, I knew you were coming." Then his eyes dropped to Watari's bag and the box he had with him.

Watari followed his gaze. "Oh. I, uh, came straight here. Don't laugh!" he mewled when Matsukawa's shoulders shook with silent and not concealed laughter.

Matsukawa reached for the box. "From home, I take it."

"Yeah. Kako-san expects something in return."

Matsukawa shrugged and opened the box. As he began breaking one brownie into bits, he said, "I'll see what I can do, but I haven't had much time away from here. We've been so busy, I've barely had any extras to bring home for Kyoutani."

"It's the season. Your family's place is packed, as always."

Matsukawa's eyes flicked to his, and the larger man held out a brownie chunk with its macadamia pieces missing. When Watari took it and ate with him, he asked, "They're good?"

Watari knew he wasn't referring to the brownie. "They're in good health and strong spirits," he replied. "Busier than ever. Sawauchi-san keeps telling your parents that he's willing to marry into the family and come aboard, not just marry Kako-san."

Matsukawa made a face at the mention of his former classmate and their teammate. "…he should keep his day job."

The trainer almost remarked about knowing Sawauchi couldn't take over the bakery since Matsukawa would someday, but he stilled his tongue, knowing that would sound presumptuous. "On the topic of them," Watari started, "I think they nailed down a date, sometime in November."

"I know. She texted me. It's the only time she and my parents can catch their breath."

Of course Kako would've texted her brother. "So you'll be going?"

…crap. Matsukawa finished the first dessert and started on the second before meeting Watari's eyes again. "I'll be going for that," he answered.

Ah. His words were so specific, as if to say he'd come home for his family…and his family alone.

Suddenly Watari remembered all too vividly what he'd been thinking on his way down. The next second, his jetlag caught up with him.

Watari made a show of getting his phone out to check the time, and his stomach growled promptly. "I should get going. Your five minutes are just about up, and I should get something real to eat."

"Shinji."

Though he didn't want to, Watari peeked at his boyfriend, and his shoulders sagged when Matsukawa held out a hand to stop him but uncharacteristically hesitated before he could touch him. That hand rolled into a fist and backed away, and Matsukawa frowned.

"…never mind. I'll catch you later."

Watari nodded because he didn't trust his voice not to catch. And, when he stood to leave, he showed no hesitation in leaving Matsukawa without any signs of affection. Maybe once they'd been that couple unashamed of PDA, much to their friends' chagrin.

But now Watari considered that he'd come here only to swing by, to check in—

—and to break up.

* * *

From the station, it was only a few gloriously mind-numbing minutes to walk to The Roost, which wasn't far from the ancient apartment complex where Nishinoya rented. The Roost wasn't an upscale bar, so Watari felt fine heading there in his jeans and t-shirt…though, as he got nearer and saw the new sign in fancy script, he wondered if that had changed since the bar's facelift back in March.

He descended the stairs and was greeted by the hum of business mixed with music. Before, the bar had been a quiet refuge for its regulars, but the addition of a sound system was the only huge change. The layout was the same, with a perimeter of booths and some standalone tables separating the booths from the bar counter, and the interior remained black and silver.

"Watari-san!"

Watari turned his head at the sound of Hinata's voice, and he joined the redhead at the counter when Hinata and Tanaka waved him over. "Hello, Hinata, Tanaka."

"Noya-san said you'd be by sometime tonight," the shaven-haired bartender stated. "Can I fix you something to drink?"

"Ah, no… I really just wanted to get his key—" His stomach interrupted him, and his cheeks warmed as Tanaka snickered and Hinata laughed openly.

"I'll tell him you're here and hungry," Tanaka said, grinning, and he popped his head into the backroom to let the cook know.

"Agh…"

Hinata pushed the bowl of shrimp chips he was working on towards the trainer and insisted after Watari shook his head. "Nice to see you, Watari-san. But you look so haggard compared to Noya-senpai's birthday. Are you feeling sick?"

Sometimes Watari envied the forthrightness everyone from Karasuno seemed to possess. "No, I'm fine," he lied. "Just tired. I left this morning."

Karasuno's former decoy stared at him. "This morning? But isn't…?" He actually paused and counted on his fingers, doing some mental math. Then he gaped at Watari. "But isn't next week the first round of qualifiers for the Spring High?!"

Watari was impressed. "You still keep tabs on the calendar?"

"Of course! My sister plays on Karasuno's girls' team."

Actually, Watari had forgotten that Oikawa was not the only one with family following in his footsteps. "Anyway," the trainer said, "I'm not a coach, and something came up, so I'm here for a visit."

"Are you staying through the weekend? There's a practice game on Saturday."

"F.C.'s?" If he saw Oikawa playing, he'd pass along a "hello" from Iwaizumi even though the assistant coach had been too bashful to say that.

Hinata shook his head as Tanaka returned to the bar to fill some drink orders. "No, Trefuerza. Some of my Datekou friends play for them—oh, and Nekoma's Lev, if you remember him? So Kageyama and I go when he's off."

Watari raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that cheating?"

"No. Sometimes Aone-san and Lev go to F.C.'s practice matches, though Lev always gets sidetracked after when catching up with Kuroo-san."

Nishinoya didn't bring out Watari's food, which was instead delivered by another familiar face, Nekoma's Yamamoto. But Nishinoya _did_ pop his head out of the backroom to tell Watari that the trainer would get his key only once he'd eaten a full meal. "Oh, and hi!" the spiky-haired shorty added as an afterthought before getting back to work. It made Watari laugh.

He ate in peace, listening to Hinata's chatter about the pro league's current stats and having Tanaka translate when the redhead babbled incoherently about certain aspects. Watari was halfway through whatever Nishinoya called the pasta dish he'd made when Kageyama arrived, and then the couple excused themselves to a booth so they could sit down for dinner.

At that chance, Watari took another look around The Roost, picking out a couple of other familiar faces, mostly other crows, though he thought he spied another cat in addition to Yamamoto.

"Y'know, lemme go check on that key for you," Tanaka said suddenly, pulling Watari's attention away from people-watching.

The trainer glanced at his plate, which still had a few noodles left. "But—"

Tanaka frowned and passed him an orange drink that was mostly juice. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but Hinata was right, even if he was rude. You look pretty beat, Watari."

Jeez. Was that all he was going to hear tonight? Still, disgruntled though the observation made him, he shrugged, conceding, and Tanaka returned a moment later with Nishinoya's apartment key. "Thanks," the trainer mumbled, getting his wallet out.

Tanaka held up a hand to stop him. "No problem, but Noya's got this one covered."

Watari frowned, feeling as though he'd been babied for the second time that day, and he put money and a tip on the counter anyway. "Goodnight," he rushed before Tanaka could interrupt, and he shouldered his bag and hurried up the stairs, bumping into a dark-haired man in passing. He threw a halfhearted "sorry" over his shoulder, but he couldn't really be bothered with manners right now, despite them being so ingrained in him.

Nishinoya's apartment complex, in Watari's opinion, was a perfect example of the word "decrepit" and belonged in the dictionary next to that entry, with its old-fashioned front and stairs that creaked disturbingly in all the wrong places. Nevertheless, it wasn't located in a problematic neighborhood, and Watari at least felt confident that the floor wouldn't fall from under his feet unless he jumped up and down with that purpose in mind.

Nishinoya's apartment, itself, was as tiny as the crow had described, nothing more than a kitchenette and a living space with a closet that wouldn't close and a tiny bathroom that could barely hold the sink, toilet, and shower it had. Regardless, there was a fan in the window, and Nishinoya had pulled out a spare futon for his friend. It was about as inviting as Watari needed right now.

He took a rather cold shower and changed into pajamas after, and he left Nishinoya's key on the kitchen counter and the door unlocked, since he knew the cook only had the one key. He flicked the TV on, which sat in a corner, but nothing caught his interest, so he gave up and laid the futon out, wishing sleep to come soon and, preferably, dream-free.

* * *

When Watari woke the following morning, it was late. Before noon, but late. He didn't remember the last time he'd slept in, since working at Seijou even in his capacity meant keeping something resembling a teacher's early schedule.

He got up to get a glass of water, and he saw Nishinoya had left him a note on the counter—along with the key and some money. The exact amount Watari had left with Tanaka last night. Watari read the note:

_Shinji!_

_Ryuu told me you were acting strange last night. Take your money back—or else! Also, since I'll be home late, keep the key with you, this way you can go out, if you like. I'll only be at Shared Stem tomorrow, so we can hang tomorrow night._

_—Noya_

Watari sighed, but he chuckled at how _Nishinoya_ the note was, that he'd even read it in the cook's voice. And he was surprised and happy to find another note attached to some breakfast leftovers left in the fridge for him to eat. So he heated that up and contemplated what to do for the day.

After his odd behavior being witnessed so plainly, Watari felt embarrassed at the idea of dropping by the bar later tonight, so he crossed that off the list of possibilities. Crossed off, too, was a passing thought about dropping by his old university to greet his former professors. He hadn't come back to talk shop, and the day would be blown if he caught up with them.

In the end, he went out shopping. Even if he didn't bring Matsukawa's pastries back with him, he wanted to get some souvenirs for his parents and for Matsukawa's family. And, he thought as he walked around a department store, presents would be nice for Iwaizumi and Mizoguchi…and maybe Irihata, too, who'd made this possible.

Although, he realized with a sigh, maybe that was nothing to be excited over…

No! He had to stop thinking this way. Even if he and Matsukawa no longer felt the same way, that—that was only one person he'd see while here. There were still other faces to see, friends to hang out with, places to go on his own.

He jolted when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he saw he had a text. No way. Speak of the devil, could it be…?

But it was only Yahaba:

_-Heard through the nerdvine you're in town. Lunch at our place Friday? ;)_

Watari twisted his lips around. He wasn't certain he could handle the two of them right now:

_-Just you and me?_

Yahaba's reply came slowly:

_-? Duh. Takahiro-san's got work._

Watari breathed a sigh of relief.

_-Then count me in. See you then._

Yahaba confirmed with a rough time, and finally Watari's phone quieted. He finished shopping and spent the rest of the day and early evening walking around, eating when he felt like it and returning to the apartment before Nishinoya as expected. At least when he went to bed that night, his heart didn't feel so heavy.

In the morning, too, his heart lifted when he woke and caught Nishinoya in the middle of dishing up breakfast.

"'Morning!" the cook chirped.

"Good morning," Watari said. He checked the time on his phone as he got up to put his futon away. "Oh, that's a relief."

"What is?"

"I woke up early, and it's not that you're late to work."

Nishinoya laughed at that and passed him two eggs cracked over rice. "Never! I was the guy who'd occasionally be late to class, but never late to work." He even gave Watari a thumb's up.

Now Watari laughed. "I take it that means you leave promptly, too?"

Nishinoya bobbed his head up and down as he inhaled his food and pounded an orange juice. "You got it!"

"Shall I meet you somewhere after? If you give me the flower shop's address, I can be there when your shift's over."

The bubbly cook paused after he put his dishes in the sink. He gave Watari a confident smile, but his stare was eerily similar to those ones Watari remembered Hinata giving opponents back in their high school volleyball days. Oh, no.

"Nishinoya…," the trainer intoned.

"Nah, don't worry about it! I'll come home and cook dinner, and we can just chill here." But his expression nevertheless conveyed to Watari that he was planning something. Good grief. Just because the cook was privy to everything that had happened lately didn't mean he needed to get involved. That was precisely _why_ this friendship worked—they could bellyache to each other without running afoul of their respective social circles, slightly cross though those circles did.

"Nishinoya, _please_ , do _not_ do to me what Ennoshita did to you," he quipped, reminding the other man how Tanaka's better half had been the one to get Nishinoya and Azumane to face each other.

But the warning did little to faze him. "I _won't_ ," he promised simply. Then he checked his watch. "Ah, I've gotta skedaddle, though. Text me if you want anything specific for dinner, Shinji!" he said on his way out the door. The door closed with a thud. Then, a second later, the cook popped his head back in. "By the way, you met Chikara the other night. He's the guy you crashed into when you left." Nishinoya gave him a second thumb's up by way of parting, and then he left for real.

Meanwhile, Watari smacked himself. For crying out loud…! He couldn't take a vacation properly, he couldn't have a relationship properly, he couldn't use his manners properly, and he couldn't even meet people properly! What was his life coming to?

Feeling as if he'd completely let go for the first time in his life, Watari gave in and somewhat relished this chance not to be good-mannered, obedient, dependent Watari. Instead, a drained and lazy Shinji took his time eating breakfast and watching a ridiculous amount of television. Once the food was gone, he did something else he'd never done and went back to bed. By the time he woke from that nap, he felt less ill at ease with himself, and he got up and took care of the dishes before making some notes about Seijou's regimen, as he'd taken along just the one notebook should he have the chance to get even a little work done.

He made a sandwich for a late lunch but put his notebook away to watch several movies instead. The sun was setting before the second movie finished, and his phone vibrated as the credits ran.

"Go figure he texts to make sure about dinner," Watari mumbled as he picked up the device. But it wasn't a text from Nishinoya, nor was it one from Yahaba.

It was Matsukawa, calling.

The phone vibrated again, and Watari debated cutting the call, because he knew he couldn't answer—he had no idea what to say, least of all over the phone—but the phone went silent after it buzzed a third time.

Ah. So Matsukawa had given up. Again.

Watari drew his knees up to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing and pressing the heel of his hand between his eyes, incredibly frustrated. He wasn't the only one to blame, he knew. He had no idea how to love someone outside of friends and family, but he wasn't the only one to blame. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd commented to Nishinoya a while back that they'd both fallen for big guys with low self-esteem. He just didn't get why Matsukawa was so careful these days and second-guessed himself all the time.

It wasn't long before Nishinoya was home, and Watari was still posed like that even when the cook closed the door behind him. He said nothing, and he went about doing some prep work before finally coming over and touching a cold can of beer to the fitness trainer's neck. "Hey," Nishinoya started. "Here. Drink. You'll feel better."

Slowly, Watari sat up and moved his limbs, stiff from the tension. He took the drink but didn't open it. "…what I need is an aspirin."

"Not on an empty stomach. Dinner's soon. But drink first."

Watari frowned, and he sipped the beer after Nishinoya took it, opened it, and placed it back in his hands. "…I'm sorry," he murmured after half the can was gone.

"No need to apologize," Nishinoya corrected, clapping him on the back.

"But I don't think this is how you imagined my first proper stay going."

The cook shrugged, and he passed Watari another beer after the trainer finished the first one. "I won't lie—I didn't picture this, either, but it's not the end of the world. When a friend brings baggage, you just face it head on."

His bluntness was reminiscent of Yahaba's, but, with Nishinoya, there was no teasing or sarcasm to follow. "Yeah…thanks."

"No problem. Rough day, I'm guessing?"

Watari got to his feet and lingered behind him as Nishinoya sautéed some fish in a buttery sauce. "It was nothing spectacular." He inhaled the aroma, and his stomach growled appreciatively.

"Then why do you look so sapped?" He asked this without turning around, but then he paused and glanced at Watari with a furrowed brow, his khaki-colored eyes dark. "Wait—did you and Matsukawa-san—?"

"No!" Watari blinked, stunned by his volume and how firmly the word had sounded from his mouth. Then he thought about Matsukawa calling him earlier. "Not yet," he amended lamely.

"Are you going to?"

"…"

"Do you want to?"

Watari considered the question. "No," he said steadily, though his mind was foggy.

"Okay then." Nishinoya plated everything, and he placed their food and drinks on the low table in the middle of the room. He dug in as Watari warily eyed him.

"That's it?"

"Of course not. But eat." Nishinoya ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. He turned the TV on to a news channel a second later.

Watari vaguely recalled wondering if Nishinoya was scheming something earlier, but he shrugged that feeling off and ate. The fish was tasty, as was the crispy tofu his friend had fried up, though it was salty. Thankfully, Watari still had his beer—

Wait a minute.

It took him a few seconds, since his thoughts were murky already, but he could've _sworn_ his beer hadn't gotten lighter. But…he _knew_ he'd been drinking from it. He was only on his second beer—right?

"Goddammit, Nishinoya."

The cook faced him, eyes alight and looking anything but innocent. "Let me apologize ahead of time."

"'Ahead'—? I'm already drunk, aren't I?!"

Nishinoya nodded, but the action was slow, like slow motion in one of those movies Watari had watched today. "And I'm not apologizing for that, but for getting you angry."

"I'm not angry, but I _am_ annoyed. I'm supposed to see Yahaba tomorrow, and a hangover is the _last_ thing I want to bring along."

"You'll be fine, I swear. Now tell me what's running through that round head of yours."

"I don't know what—"

"Yes, you do." Nishinoya turned the TV off, and the sudden silence felt strange. "You talked sense into me when I thought about at least clearing the air with Asahi-san. It's my turn to repay the favor."

"You really don't have to—"

"So you two didn't split?"

"No," Watari repeated.

"Are you going to?" the crow queried again.

"Look, I—"

"It's a simple question, Shinji."

"I don't know," the trainer spat, disliking being interrupted so much.

Nishinoya nodded. "Do you _want_ to break up?"

"Of course not!" he snarled, and he gasped. He wasn't one to yell. "Sorry—"

But his friend forged ahead, ignoring him. "So then what's the problem? Why not just tell Matsukawa-san all this?"

"It's not that easy," Watari growled, no longer feeling apologetic. "And would you _stop_ interrup—"

"How hard can it be? You know where he is, can see him, and you're talking to me, so obviously you have the ability to talk—"

"Will you shut _up_ for one damn second?!" Watari leaned his elbows on the table and held his head. In his currently crappy peripheral vision, he saw at least three empty cans near him. Well, fuck. " _Ugh_ ," he groaned.

"Shinji—"

"Please shut the fuck up."

He heard more than saw Nishinoya grinning triumphantly. He even imagined him chuckling. "So you _do_ know how to swear."

"Of course I do!"

"And you get angry."

"Like a normal person!"

"I'm betting not a lot of people know this about you."

 _Now_ Watari looked—well, _glared_ —at him. "Huh?"

Nishinoya disappeared and returned a second later with a glass of water for him. "You're a fun guy, Shinji, but you're also a little uptight. A goody-two-shoes."

Watari blew bubbles into the water. "As if I don't hear that enough."

"I figured plying you with beer was one way to see the rest of you."

Watari sighed. "… I _do_ have it in me to sass others. Just, y'know, usually it's Yahaba I sass."

"Sass is not the same thing as being angry. When someone's angry, they can't really control themselves. As a result, they're more honest."

The trainer held his head again. "Is there a point or…?"

"Shinji, have you ever let yourself swear at Matsukawa-san or get angry at him?"

What a stupid thing to ask! "Of course I have. When we were first dating and he'd eat off my plate without asking. When he and Hanamaki-san and Yahaba would tease me about being oblivious to something. When—" Ah, shit. His voice was catching. "When he delayed his university plans because he wanted to go at the same time as me. When he said he'd stay here…even when I told him I was going back to Miyagi…" His vision was blurry as he stared at the woodgrain on the table, and he hated that Nishinoya clapped him on the back again.

"I bet you were honest all those times."

"Yeah…"

Nishinoya pulled his hand away and stretched. "So the answer's clear: Get angry and go yell at him."

"But I love him."

"All the more reason." The cook cleared everything away. He returned to lay out the futons, but he couldn't do that with the table and Watari in the middle of the room. Sighing, he asked, "What do you love about him?"

Watari took offense at his tone, as if Matsukawa were no one special. "A _lot_ ," Watari grumbled defensively. "He's kind to me as he is with everyone else, but there's a softness to him that I can spy every time I catch him observing me. He's not big on words, but he talks with me a lot—or, he used to," he corrected, thinking of earlier in the week, being on the phone with his boyfriend and then seeing him in person the other day. "But it's not just that." He picked his head up and looked at Nishinoya, his vision severely watery now. "There's… There's this smirk of his," he continued, his voice cracking, "and it softens when we're together, and it makes me feel like the only person in the world with him, and I never knew I'd want to feel like that until he told me he loved me, and I—" He sniffed. "I want to keep him smiling like that, for both of us."

"Shinji…"

"Yeah?"

Nishinoya passed him some tissues and a mint. "You, my friend, are cute and cuddly."

Watari sighed exasperatedly. " _Not_ what I wanted to hear."

"Nope, let me finish. I think, because you've got that image, you're resistant to back away from it. Even when being blunt, you're still a very nice, very selfless friend and person overall. That probably attracted Matsukawa-san in the first place. But you know what I think kept him?"

"What?"

Nishinoya beamed at him. "Ever having seen this side of you. It's really interesting and kind of amusing, no offense, so someone who's a bit of a joker like him was intrigued, probably."

Watari's heart sank. "You think having a big fight will keep him around?" That was insane. He couldn't do that.

"No, I mean— I don't think he wants that. Based on everything you've told me over the years, he's a softie. So there's something serious going on, and you should probably find the courage without the help of Mr. Alcohol here to question him about it. Ah, no! _Interrogate_!" His eyes were shining again, and Watari was so tired he actually smiled gratefully at him. It almost made up for Nishinoya getting him drunk. Almost.

* * *

" _HA_! That's hilarious!"

"Shut the fuck up."

"What, I don't get a 'please'?" Yahaba whined on Watari's left. "I'm, like, your _best friend_. You were the vice-captain to my captain, the pepper to my salt—"

"You've got the salt part right," Hanamaki snickered as he crashed the party.

Watari groaned doubly as the older one in this duo came home exactly when Watari wished he wouldn't. "Kill me now," the trainer bemoaned.

"Whoa, there, Watari, here to reap souls with that attitude?" Hanamaki asked as he joined them at the kitchen table.

"Leave him alone," Yahaba scolded, even though he'd just been laughing at Watari's recount of the previous night. "He's hungover, and Matsukawa-san's being Matsukawa-san."

"Am I supposed to know what the hell that means?"

Watari rolled his eyes, thinking he should've pushed Yahaba's lunch off. It was mid-afternoon, but Watari's head still hurt. At least in the morning Nishinoya had left out for him some water and pills, along with a note that read "Here's your aspirin."

"What are you doing home, anyway?" Yahaba asked as Hanamaki pulled up a chair on his other side and picked at what Yahaba had yet to finish on his plate.

"A coworker needed to switch shifts, so I'll be back at Maji Burger tonight. But, seriously," he continued, reaching across and poking Watari's hand until the trainer gave him a look, "what's up with _you_? We've known you for over a decade, most of which you've been of legal drinking age, but I've never seen or heard of you getting drunk. And what's this about Matsukawa?"

Watari stared at the two of them, like some picture out of a contemporary fairytale. Yahaba, dressed casually for a day of work at home from Emperor Industries' music division. Hanamaki beside him, his Maji Burger uniform in stark contrast with Yahaba's office look. Behind them, the nice, bleached wood floors of their apartment ran from one room to the next, rooms decorated nicely and furnished with expensive things they could afford on Yahaba's salary. The only thing that could shatter the envious scene was Watari's memory of the _one_ "noisy" time he'd stayed over…although that made him a bit jealous, too, for another reason.

Yahaba raised his eyebrows, snapping Watari out of his thoughts. "Do you want to tell him, or should I?"

The trainer waved him off and sat up straight, leaning back in his chair. He knew Hanamaki would learn everything eventually, and he'd rather not rely on Yahaba parroting everything. So…he told his story for the second time that day.

When he was done, he stared at Hanamaki, as did Yahaba. The brunet darted his eyes between his friend and his lover. "Takahiro-san," the former setter prompted.

"So…"

The other two leaned forward.

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow. "Nishinoya is right."

Yahaba nodded. "Right? Watari totally needs to let Matsukawa-san have it."

"No, I mean—Watari _really_ is cute and cuddly. Did he actually say 'fuck' before I got home?"

"Takahiro-san!"

"Hanamaki-san!"

Hanamaki laughed as Yahaba swatted him in the arm and Watari glared at him. "Oh, calm down, you two. Let me give you some advice."

"I didn't ask for any," Watari interjected.

But the older man made a dramatic gesture with his hands, as if quieting a captive audience. "You're concerned about making long-distance work for you, right? Then I'm going to share a secret with you."

Watari eyed him skeptically.

"I dunno what bug is currently up his ass, _but_ I do know that Matsukawa is definitely in it for the long haul—"

The trainer's mouth popped open in a small "o," but Hanamaki held up a hand to keep him quiet.

"—and I've no doubt he'll say as much so long as _you_ let _him_ know you're at that point, too."

Watari kept gaping at him. He didn't know what he'd expected Hanamaki to say, but it certainly hadn't been _that_.

"How the hell do you know that?" Yahaba asked, unconvinced.

His better half batted his eyes at Yahaba. "Because I shoot the breeze with him like the high school girls we are, dear."

Yahaba's nose wrinkled at his intonation. "'Shoot the breeze'? You mean you're old women."

"Shut up, Shigeru." And, when that didn't work, a kiss did the job.

But Watari paid them no mind, lost in his head as he was. Was Hanamaki pulling his leg? Matsukawa's behavior up 'til this point had spoken to the contrary. Was this really just a case of—of Opposite Day at the worst time? But, if so, then what the hell was Matsukawa thinking?

* * *

Of course, the only answer was to ask the person in question himself.

Between Nishinoya's shifts at The Roost and at Shared Stem, Watari didn't have the chance to fill him in that day or the next, so Watari was left to brainstorm his plan of attack on his own. He passed the time by reviewing the notes he'd made to Seijou's regimen and idly channel-surfing, but he felt restless and ended up going out for a run after a meager lunch. The run did him some good, the thud of the city pavement under his feet and the electric scent of the neighborhood in his nose and the thrum of urban life in his ears coming together to empty his mind for a lovely moment. He was still a bundle of nerves when he returned and showered, but his anxiety was being pushed aside by his hope and his curiosity.

Kuma Desserts didn't close until shortly before the bar opened, so Watari timed his train ride appropriately. Lucky for him, this was after rush hour, so the crowds had thinned, and only anticipation made Watari feel claustrophobic.

Unsurprisingly, the double doors to the small patisserie were locked, but the lights were still on inside, so Watari knocked and waited. A moment later, Murasakibara appeared and poked his head out. Even though he was backlit, he seemed gentler with the top button of his chef's jacket undone and his hair down.

"Oh, Chibi-san. Ah." His violet eyes widened as he seemed to recall something, and he ran a bashful hand through his long locks. "I mean…Watari…san…"

Watari blinked. He could count the number of times he'd been to Kuma Desserts on one hand, but this was the first time Murasakibara, who was younger than both him and Matsukawa, had been respectful.

Murasakibara grumpily pouted at Watari's open surprise. "Matsuchin scolded me, said not to call you 'chibi.' But he's already left for the night."

Just like that, his shock was gone. Crap. He'd have to hope Matsukawa hadn't made any detours and was only heading home. "Thank you, Murasakibara!" he said, turning heel and leaving, waving at the giant chef over his shoulder.

He'd been to Matsukawa's apartment plenty of times, just never coming from the direction of the patisserie, so he took two wrong turns and had to circle back before he was in the right neighborhood. Even then, with as dark as it was getting, Watari headed for the wrong street, not noticing his mistake until he reached the other end and saw the correct street sign one over.

 _Finally_ , he found the complex, an old building even more dilapidated, more in disrepair than Nishinoya's place, with superficial damage to the siding and to the handrail on the stairs broken in two sections, one on the first floor and one on the third. Watari watched his step as he made his way up to the fourth, because the last thing he wanted to do was to trip and get splinters in all the wrong places.

On the fourth floor, the apartment at the far end stood vacant, whereas the first two had sounds of television and family dinner coming from them. Watari had business with the third apartment, however, but his hope for solving things tonight waned as he glimpsed no light coming from under Matsukawa and Kyoutani's door.

Oh. So…no one was home. At least, Watari hoped that was the case, and not that Matsukawa had moved without telling him. Now _that_ would be jumping to conclusions, right? Ha…!

…right?

The trainer crouched in front of the door, clamping his head between his knees, his confidence evaporating exponentially. Was this some kind of karmic punishment? He could do brilliantly in all other aspects of life, but the tradeoff made him bad at love? That was ridiculous and unfair. Watari didn't believe in such things, and, even if he did, he'd done nothing to deserve this heartache.

After a minute, Watari's head pounded, so he crossed his arms atop his knees and rested his chin there, sniffling. Good. Grief.

"Shinji?"

Ah, now he was even hearing things!

"Shinji? What are you doing here?"

Watari looked to his right and saw a fantastic mirage: a worried Matsukawa, all shaky pout and wide eyes and crinkled brow. A part of Watari resented the big guy for being so handsome even when he looked this shaken.

"Fuck," Matsukawa cursed, more to himself than at him, Watari surmised, and the black-haired man hurried to close the distance between them. Once close enough, he, too, dropped to his haunches, and he reached for Watari—but, as he had before, he stopped short of actually touching him.

That was the last straw. Mirage or not, this Matsukawa was going to get an earful. "Are you serious right now?"

Matsukawa met his eyes, black meeting warm gray. He didn't shrink away as Watari's volume rose naturally.

"Issei-san, I'm here. Right here, right now! Why can't you bring yourself to touch me? Why do you say so little at all the wrong times? _Why_ ," Watari pushed, "can't I tell anymore if you're excited to see me? If you even still love me?!" His last question might've been lost to his boyfriend, as Watari mumbled it into his jeans.

Matsukawa remained silent. And, yet, he slipped a hand under Watari's right arm, careful not to grip too tight, tugging on him just enough so that Watari would get to his feet. Satisfied Watari wouldn't crumple into a ball again, he unlocked the door and went inside, turning on the kitchen light and leaving Watari to follow him.

Watari sulked by the threshold. Did he not know how to be angry properly? Because he was certain this wasn't how things were supposed to go. But the other man had piqued his curiosity, so he reluctantly entered and closed the door behind him.

The place was little more than twice the size of Nishinoya's room, but it didn't feel too uncomfortable with Kyoutani still out. One side of the apartment clearly belonged to Kyoutani: a leather jacket hung on a hanger on his wall, a volleyball rested in a corner with a bunched-up blanket, his futon still looked slept in, and there were half a dozen magazine clippings of cute dogs taped to his wall along the bottom. Although, on second glance, Watari realized one picture was of Kyoutani's four younger siblings with his grandfather.

The other half of the room belonged to Matsukawa. Though his futon was folded up and away and his area generally looked neat, there was so much of his personality in just a few square feet. The small stack of foreign light novels beside the TV. The handheld gaming system unplugged by its charger beside the books. An embarrassing number of pillows stacked haphazardly and nearly hiding his well-loved and still-used Aoba Johsai duffle. And…

The expensive headphones Watari had given him as a graduation present six years ago.

Atop the futon, the stuffed chipmunk he'd won when they'd gone to that amusement park two years ago, insisting the chipmunk character reminded him of Watari whenever Watari stuffed his cheeks full of the delicious food Matsukawa made for him.

On the wall, so many pictures they'd taken together over the years, printed out and arranged in rows, taped with washi tape in green—Matsukawa's favorite color—and in yellow—a color Matsukawa had always associated with Watari, because it was "radiant like him."

Watari gaped at the scene, unable to tear his eyes away, even when Matsukawa came to his side, running a hand sheepishly back and forth through his curls. He scratched his undercut and sighed, saying, "I owe you an explanation."

"Wuh—" Watari babbled, gesturing outrageously to Matsukawa's belongings.

"I guess I deserve Hanamaki calling me a 'fucktard' via text this morning," he muttered to himself, but he bent forward and stuck his face in Watari's line of sight. He waited until the trainer looked at him. "Shinji… I'm sorry."

Watari shut his mouth at last and frowned. "You know, Issei-san… I got good, reading your body language and micro expressions over the years. But, this time? Please take it from the top and tell me _everything_. In plain language." He disliked demanding that of him, since Matsukawa favored meaningful gestures and looks over talking…but his heart swelled when Matsukawa made an effort now to do this one thing for him.

"I…am not sure I could handle taking over my parents' bakery, even though they were training me for it."

"But you…do so well at Kuma…" Watari furrowed his brow, confused.

Matsukawa twisted his lips around, a sign he was picking the right words. "That's…different. I manage okay there, mostly because I have a better pace than Mukkun-sensei. But—" He grimaced. "I feel as though everyone else has got their shit together. But I was only reliable as part of a team—the Seijou one. Outside of that…"

Watari shook his head and grabbed a fistful of Matsukawa's shirt. "What kind of nonsense is that?! Two can make a team, too, Issei-san!" He let go and took hold of that pouty face with both of his hands, not letting him shy away from the physical contact. " _We_ are a team, too!"

There it was—that soft smile Watari had witnessed a couple of times before Matsukawa had first told Watari he liked him. It flickered to life, but Matsukawa's eyes darkened as he attempted to quash it.

"Issei-san…," he intoned, pressing against him.

He could fight the smile all he wanted, but he didn't deny the impulse to rest his hands on Watari's waist, and he groaned at the well-defined contradiction. "Shinji, you're one of those people, who's got it together. You…deserve more than someone caught in the drift."

Huh. That…was so stupid, Watari wanted to cry. "Just to be clear: You're clearly in love with me, but you think I could do better?"

Matsukawa gave a little nod, even with Watari's hands still on his cheeks.

"And I'm clearly in love with you, but I don't get a say?"

The taller man's lips parted, but he smartly said nothing.

Watari shook his head, primarily at himself. Nishinoya had said some nice things about him, but Watari wondered if it were time to do away…at least, in moderation…with one aspect of his personality that he had issues with and which was partly to blame for exacerbating this teenaged, angsty misunderstanding.

"Shinji?"

"Issei-san, come home in November," he demanded.

Matsukawa's hands slid a little on Watari's waist, defeated, but he didn't pull away. "…right. For the wedding."

"No. For me. For good."

He was quiet. But the sparkles in his eyes said it all: "You mean it?"

So Watari kissed him to confirm. It was no easy feat, kissing someone who didn't want to be kissed initially, but Watari stood on tiptoes and propped himself up against Matsukawa's chest, kissing him and even daring to bite his lower lip when Matsukawa wouldn't open his mouth. Several breaths later, Watari rested his forehead on Matsukawa's collarbone, relishing the heat of Matsukawa's arms and tightening around him, even if it _was_ summer outside this room. He hugged Matsukawa tightly, too. " _Never_ , ever pull away from me again, Issei-san. Not to make me see that we don't work—which we _do_ —or for any other reason." He looked up into those sharp, amused eyes. "I can handle a bit of heartache if I get to be happy in the end."

Matsukawa gave him a heartbroken look, and he pecked Watari's forehead. "Ah, Shinji…you're too cute when you're selfish."

Watari glared at him.

Matsukawa chuckled. "And when you're mad at me."

"Damn it! I'm trying to stay mad at you, you—you bastard!"

" _And_ when you try to cuss at me." He leaned down, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of Watari's neck, right below the hollow beneath his skull, and he touched his forehead to Watari's, his short curls tickling the top of Watari's head. "Gods, Shinji. I _do_ get excited to see you and hear from you. I love you. Still do and will. Whether here or in Miyagi."

"…preferably in Miyagi."

He laughed but nodded. "I suppose. I…still have a lot of training left before I can worry about taking over my parents' place."

Watari fought down a yip of delight. "But you're open to the idea?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And you won't put my best interests ahead of yours without talking to me first?"

"Mm." Though he pouted at that—or maybe at the reminder of his poor behavior.

"And you'll listen to me when I make the effort to be selfish? Because I'm not used to being demanding. It's going to take some practice."

Matsukawa snorted. "You got it, Shin."

Watari's heart pounded a wee bit harder in his chest, and he fiddled with the hem of his boyfriend's t-shirt, nudged Matsukawa's nose with his. Might as well practice this power now. "Then show me that excitement I've missed out on."

The taller man raised his thick eyebrows, but he no longer hesitated. Every nuzzle, every kiss, every caress—they came not from the "old" Matsukawa or a new, uninhibited Matsukawa but from…Matsukawa. Just Matsukawa Issei, as Watari and only Watari knew him. Watari's Matsukawa. Watari's _Issei_. _Shinji's Issei_.

Matsukawa's tight tee was the first on the floor, and Watari got his own over his head as his boyfriend picked him up partially, his strong hands keeping Watari's thighs in place as they continued to kiss. Watari fumbled with their jeans' buttons and zippers while Matsukawa went for his side of the room and lazily kicked his bedding open, not bothering to straighten it out much as he got to his knees and gingerly laid Watari down.

Watari covered his mouth, embarrassed by how giddy he felt, seeing Matsukawa backlit by only the light from the kitchenette. A nervous grin crept its way onto his face after Matsukawa tugged Watari's pants off, and suddenly it felt like that time ten years ago, before they left for university—for a kind of life together—and they'd done it for the first time.

Matsukawa kissed his way down Watari's dark jaw and neck, taking his time on his chest, his tongue drawing slow circles around each nipple while one hand lifted Watari's hips and the thumb of the other slid beneath Watari's boxers and around back, teasing along Watari's tailbone. Then Matsukawa picked up his head. "Ah."

"'Ah'?! What do you mean, 'Ah'?!" the trainer hissed shrilly.

His boyfriend freed one hand—the one on Watari's hips—by hooking Watari's knees on his shoulders, on either side of his neck…an awkward position, considering Watari's underwear was only half off. He reached for his phone in his jeans back pocket, low by his own knees, and dialed. "Just a sec. Trust me."

Big words coming from a guy who'd put that trust through the wringer this week alone, but Watari gave him a pass. He clenched his backside, though, pinching Matsukawa's thumb. He got a bemused scoff in response.

The person on the other end picked up, judging by the relief on Matsukawa's features. "Hey. Kyoutani. Can you find somewhere else to stay for the night?"

That made sense. Watari, too, felt a smidge of relief, because it would not do for their friend to come home to this—

"Stop growling at me," Matsukawa said to his roommate nonchalantly. "It's that, or you're welcome to stay home while we have sex."

" _ISSEI-SAN_!" Watari shrieked. This was _not_ the kind of PDA he didn't mind putting on display!

But Kyoutani must've run in the opposite direction and assented, because Matsukawa grinned wolfishly and tossed his phone aside after. He unhooked Watari's legs from him, did away with those bright yellow boxers, and put Watari down, sliding up against the small man to meet him in a kiss. "By the way, if I end up with a dead animal in my bed after you head home, I'm blaming you."

Watari laughed and threw his arms around Matsukawa's neck as the latter scooched out of his remaining layers. "I thought a dead animal is a gift that means he likes you?"

Matsukawa cocked his head to one side. "Yeah, well," he breathed against Watari's lips, "I only need you to like me."

And Watari showed him that "like" didn't even begin to cover it.

* * *

Watari slept in again on Sunday morning. But, this time, he had Matsukawa beside him.

He turned under the thin cover Matsukawa must've groggily grabbed in the middle of the night and peered up at his large lover. Looking at him, peaceful in his sleep, it was hard to imagine they'd ever drifted so dangerously apart.

The arm around Watari moseyed down until the attached hand was on Watari's hips. "…'morning," Matsukawa breathed, though it was half lost as he said it atop Watari's buzz cut.

The fitness trainer snuggled closer to his boyfriend and planted a mawkish kiss on his chest, over Matsukawa's heart. "Good morning."

Matsukawa peered down at him. "You're being awfully affectionate."

"Making up for lost time."

His rumbly chuckle could be felt by Watari's fingertips on his chest. "Then allow me to return the favor." He smooched Watari's forehead, his nose, both cheeks, his chin—everywhere but his lips, and the innocence of it all made Watari giggle.

Unfortunately, Watari's phone rang, and he placated Matsukawa with promises of more affection after he located his pants and answered. "Iwaizumi-san?"

"Watari, I'm so sorry," Iwaizumi began, sounding beat, "but can you come back a day early? Tomorrow, instead of Tuesday?"

"Is something wrong?" Watari asked, and Matsukawa half propped himself up on one arm, the hand of his other tugging on Watari's fingers.

"Not 'wrong,' but Irihata-sensei's… You were right. He's more than a handful. Think you can whip up a regimen to distract him? Maybe if you're the one who can coerce him to take his heart seriously, he'll let up on us and go back to retirement in peace."

Watari's shoulders sagged, and he glanced at Matsukawa, who sat beside him properly now and likely had caught the important bits. "Tomorrow?" he asked, his word sounding more like a whine, but he was looking at Matsukawa. He didn't want to leave so soon, not after recovering from them taking two steps back.

Matsukawa no doubt thought and felt the same. He snaked his arms around Watari's waist and nodded to the phone for better access. "I'm not letting go yet, Iwaizumi. See him Tuesday."

Watari had no follow-up, so he ended the call there, mentally promising to tell Iwaizumi "sorry" later for his rudeness…but not feeling apologetic at all as Matsukawa held him and they made more plans to get their life, together, back on track.

**Author's Note:**

> FUCK YEAH. 8D Matsuwata is one of my all-time OTPs, I just. I CAN'T RESIST THEM. Even though my idea almost broke them up (and a friend suggested doing so, because one ought to write one's OTPs in every way possible), I am still a sucker for happy endings, and esp with BoaF, which really is just me indulging all my OTPs, across various fandoms. -w- Not to mention… I had their story vaguely planned years ago, when I planned the Asanoya ("Glass Shards") towards the start of the BoaF AU, however! A lot happened before I wrote this. Like. Me writing several Matsuwata oneshots and even a Matsuwata novel ([falling into step](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9622907), which yOU REALLY SHOULD READ BECAUSE IT'S SO CUTE). *ahem* Anywho, I also enjoyed branching out more into Seijou in this AU, which you see more of our beloved leaves in "Proximity" (*hint, hint* ;3).
> 
> Some other remarks:
> 
> -If you read "Moving Mountains," you know who the new Karasuno coaches are. They led Karasuno to 2nd place in the Interhigh—congrats, new coaches! :D
> 
> -Oikawa Takeru (Oikawa's adorably sassy nephew) is too precious and usually full of confidence, as Watari notes. But when it comes to girls, he's like a cross between Iwa-chan and Kindaichi. And, if you haven't guessed who Takeru's crush is, rest assured, I'll be writing them in the future, too. B3
> 
> -Mattsun's fam's bakery, Amai No…: For anyone who's read falling into step, yes, it's basically the same location as Sekitan Apothecary, same size, and below another business. The interior and front are different, though, since AN is a bakery.
> 
> -Other headcanons I can't let go of: Where the Seijou kids live/how they got to school (taken from "During the rainy season…"), Mattsun having an older sister (seen in "Lonely Child"/"Content Adult," 2 unnamed Matsuwata fics, & falling into step), details of Mattsun's belongings (taken from falling into step)…
> 
> -Kuma Desserts: Probably the 3rd important setting I created when starting BoaF? Though we haven't seen it until now. And YES. MUKKUN-SENSEI IS THAT MUKKUN. Murasakibara Atsushi… I liked Fujimaki's initial "IF" jobs for the Kiseki and others, so…get ready to see some more familiar faces take front stage. ;] I also designed a logo for the patisserie! :D
> 
> -If you need your Kagehina fix since Hinata had a nice cameo, go read "Conscious of You." ;3
> 
> -Noya is a good friend. Despite the beer thing. XD This juxtaposes pretty well with "Glass Shards," tbh, although Matsuwata's circumstances are quite different.
> 
> -Yes, we will see Kyouken in an official capacity.
> 
> -The chipmunk character has a name, if you've watched Cheer Danshi! XD
> 
> -Though I finished writing this first, and so this was my first almost-smutty scene with Matsuwata, I drew them smut recently. Have a [gander](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/161859974798/as-always-mattsun-is-affectionate-after-the-fun) if you're of age and want a look. -w-
> 
> -Lastly! Music for this fic: "[Valentine (Paul Dateh Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtAXeDqkz_U)" by Kina Grannis and "[Suki tte Nan Darou…Namida](http://renai-junkie.tumblr.com/post/125978389093/yuki-%E5%A5%BD%E3%81%8D%E3%81%A3%E3%81%A6%E3%81%AA%E3%82%93%E3%81%A0%E3%82%8D%E3%81%86%E6%B6%99)" ("What's Love…Tears") by YUKI. The melodies fit the mood v well. -w-
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and please review/comment/leave an ask! The next fic in the BoaF collection, "Personal Day," will take a while since it has its own fair share of side stories, but I hope you can enjoy the other side stories while you wait, and please visit the [BoaF tumblr page](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/birds-of-a-feather-au) (on my tumblr, le-amewzing) for lotsa stuff~! Show your support for this AU, and share your excitement for it, too!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki -w-


End file.
